


Everything Seems to Be Wrong

by TheHorrorsOfButt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Dreams, Fairy Tale Elements, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Horror Elements, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Memory Loss, Mystery, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHorrorsOfButt/pseuds/TheHorrorsOfButt
Summary: Karkat meets an insufferable douchebag at his friend's wedding, but why does he seem so familiar?





	1. Below Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this fic contains blood, violence, abuse, and children in scary situations.

## I

You first meet Dave, the guy who will proceed to send your life on a winding roller coaster ride directly into a toilet, at your best friend, Kanaya's wedding.

You had been intimidated to meet the relatives of Kanaya's bride-to-be, Rose, because Rose scares the absolute shit out of you. You had figured her family would be just the same, and that you would end the night sacrificed to at least one demon. Instead, you're surprised to find her various relatives are not very similar to her at all.

Roxy is not quite the polar opposite of her younger sister, but she's pretty fucking close to it. She has a bubbly, friendly personality. You're pretty sure she makes a pass at you at some point.

The woman you presume to be Rose's mother sits silently with a tired, drunk expression on her face. You don't interact with her the entire night.

Dirk is clearly happy for his little sister, but far too uncomfortable to want to do anything but keep a vice grip on his boyfriend's leg. He's also wearing anime shades, which perplexes you. You feel like he's staring at you sometimes.

Then, there's Dave, and he's a whole other fucking universe of different.

You're gorging yourself on cupcakes when he comes up from behind you and startles the shit out of you.

"So, uh, you know Kanaya?" he asks, and you drop the half-eaten treat onto the table and jump two feet in the air.

"Jesus Christ, did you consider _not_ trying to scare the shit of me?" you scold him. You turn around, and are met with someone who looks like Dirk, but younger and a douchebag. Like Dirk, he's wearing obnoxious sunglasses, albeit in a more common style than Dirk's.

He also looks like you've seen him before.

"I didn't mean to," he says with smirk, "but, I mean, that _was_ pretty funny, you gotta admit."

"Who says I do, you fucker?" you spit back, turning your head to look at him proper. God, he looks familiar, where have you seen him before?

You rack your brain trying to think of where else you could have possibly seen this guy. According to Rose, the Striders live all the way down in Texas. You've never been to Texas in your whole life.

You don't realize you've been staring at this weird asshole stranger's face for an inappropriate amount of time until you notice he's talking to you again.

"...what you see? Yeah, man, I get it, us Striders are a hot commodity these days, so I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a piece," he says smugly.

You put your "fuck off" face back on again and say, "You wish, jackass. You couldn't get with a block of fucking wood."

"Not even if I was really nice to it?"

"Definitely not. That block of wood probably has better things to do with its time than you."

"Damn, man, that's just brutal," he laughs. "Whatever, bro, I bet that block of wood has a family and, like, a mortgage and shit, so it's all fine with me." You insulted him, and he just took it and ran with it. God, he actually _is_ kind of like Rose.

"Anyway," you interject, attempting to reel the conversation back on course, "Yeah, I do know Kanaya. Of fucking course I do, I'm her man of honor."

"Well, yeah, of course," he replies. "I was just making small talk, my dude. Also, "man of honor" makes you sound like some kind of heroic figure or something."

"That's exactly what I am," you say, "a heroic fucking figure. I'm exhausted after all this shit. It's worth it, though, obviously. To see my best friend happy." You realize you're halfway to balling your eyes out from sheer happiness again just talking about this, so you shut that whole thing down real quickly.

"Yeah, bro," he says in a markedly sincere tone. "They really are happy." He seems quite contemplative now, in stark contrast to his earlier tone of smugness.

Then you watch him settle back into that exact smugness again.

For the rest of the night, you continue to hang out with him whenever you can, cracking jokes at each other. By the end of the night, you can firmly say you actually _enjoyed_ being in the presence of Dave Strider. The only catch is that, whenever you glance over at him, you're still hit with that burning feeling that you've forgotten something you shouldn't have.

_Why the _fuck_ is he so familiar?_

## II

You're inside a small room with walls of rusted metal, trying your best to clean the gash in your left side. With each movement you make, the whole room lurches, as if suspended from a single chain. In the end, all you can do is tear off a bit of your sweater and wrap it around your side. When you're done, you look through the holes in the grated floor and attempt to make out something, anything, in the darkness below.

Across from you, the boy who helped you escape sits quietly. He has blonde hair and a lot more wounds than you do. He studies his shoe as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.

He looks up at you. "Hey, uh...?" he asks, trailing off.

"Yeah?" You're surprised but happy to hear him talking again.

"Do you think we'll remember this? I mean, once we get out of here?"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I hope not."

He looks disappointed. "Well, I hope I remember you, at least," he says wistfully. "You never told me your name, by the way."

"Karkat. My name's Karkat."

"Oh, that's a weird name."

"Fuck you."

"Sorry, dawg. I like it, I really do. It's cool." He gives you a weak smile. "Anyway, I'm Dave."

"Oh, that's a weird name," you say, mocking him from earlier. He laughs.

It's not even that funny, but pretty soon you're both laughing, harder and harder until you can no longer breathe. It just feels good to laugh, to show emotion again.

When the laughter dies down, you speak again. "I don't want to forget you either, Dave."

`;.'`.;'.'`;.`';.'`;.'`.;';`.`'.`;`.'`;.`';.`;`;'.`;'`.`';`.';`.`;'`.`';.`;'`.`';`.`';`.`';`.`';.`';

The metal room fades away, replaced by your own bedroom. You rub your eyes, swearing under your breath. The clock reads 03:15. You've been having dreams again.

Dreams that feel far too real for your comfort.

Dave is always in them, except he's only ten, maybe eleven. Same with you. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you don't. When you do talk, it's always so vague that you can't figure out what it means upon awakening. You're always in some horrible metallic place covered in injuries, him more than you. You never see what caused the injuries, though.

At the thought of injuries, you reach your hand to your side. You don't feel any pain there, obviously, Freddy Krueger isn't fucking real, but you still think about it. You always think about it, the dreams just feel too real not to.

Since you're not getting back to sleep any time soon, you figure you might as well go and brush your teeth, since you forgot to do that today. Again.

After you've brushed your teeth, you study yourself in the mirror, the dark circles under your eyes, the semi-permanent scowl on your face. You notice a bit of skin poking out from under your sweater, you guess you need a bigger one.

You're not sure why you check. Because you're tired, or because those dreams feel _so_ real, or maybe you're just curious. But you check. You lift up your sweater on the left side, and you see a very faint scar.

## III

"My twin? He went back to Texas with my older brother," Rose answers you. You're in the parlor with her, reading a book she'd recommended at your last book club.

"Oh. Okay," you respond, feigning disinterest. She seems to pick up on that, though, as Rose is wont to do.

"Dave seems to have peaked your interest," she comments. "He told me the two of you had some interesting discussions."

You snort. "Yeah, very stimulating conversationalist, that fuck. I know so much more about the world now that I've been graced by the inane dick jokes of Dave motherfucking Strider. He talked about me?"

"Yes, he did. He says he recognized you from somewhere, in fact."

You sit up. "From where?" you ask.

"He didn't know, just that he really thought he'd seen you somewhere." Fuck. Rose must notice your disappointed expression because she then asks, "Were you having the same problem?"

"Ugh, yeah. I was hoping he'd know."

Rose _hmms_ thoughtfully. "Do you have his chumhandle?"

She proceeds to give you his chumhandle, and you vow to get to the bottom of this, as soon as you're done having this delightful visit.

You don't message him that night. You're too nervous. For one, you don't want to seem like a creep. You also have absolutely no idea what to say. It's probably a non-issue. It will pass, just you wait.

`.;'`.;'`';.`';.``';.`;'.`;'.`;.`;'`.';`;.'`;.'`;'.`;.'`.`;.'`';.`.;`;'.`;.'`.';``';.`;.'`;.'`;.'`.'

You're in a black pit. You leg has been broken. Fortunately, as you fell you were able to catch yourself on some pieces of jagged metal sticking out from the walls, slicing your hands but negating much worse potential damage. Far above you, Dave shines his flashlight into the hole where the grating broke.

"Fuck! Are you okay? Karkat?"

You groan. "I definitely fucking broke my leg."

"Shit! Can you see anything down there?" He waves the flashlight around, but it does nothing to cut into the darkness.

"I can't see sh—" you stop talking abruptly. You hear something. Not down here, but up there. You can tell from the look on his face that Dave hears it too.

Far away, you hear a _roar_. You make eye contact with Dave, and it's clear you both think the same thing: _We didn't kill it. Oh fuck, we didn't kill it._

Then, you hear that sickly sweet voice in the distance, the one that sounds like tv static. You want to be sick.

**OH CHILDREN, WHY DO YOU FLEE?**

It's getting closer to Dave. You can't do anything about it, just look him in the eyes and hope he'll be alright. He trembles as the footsteps come closer and closer to the door to that tiny metal room.

You and Dave go perfectly still. The footsteps stop outside of the room. The metallic door begins to open slowly, the rust scraping against the floor.

**FOUND YOU.**

You and Dave both scream. You shut your eyes. You don't like to see this. Dave's screams go more frantic. You feel his warm blood start to spray down to you. You cover your face and scream harder into your sweater. It doesn't work. You can still feel the blood.

It doesn't quit until Dave stops screaming. You hear the sound of something heavy being dragged from the room.

Dave will survive, that much is certain. The thing always lets you both live, so that it can pretend to teach you lessons about manners and "good little children." When it comes down her to get you, your punishment will be just as harsh and unfair as Dave's will be. The days ahead are even colder than those behind.

But you will never stop looking for a way to fucking kill him.

`;.'`.;'.'`;.`';.'`;.'`.;';`.`'.`;`.'`;.`';.`;`;'.`;'`.`';`.';`.`;'`.`';.`;'`.`';`.`';`.`';`.`';.`';

Everything goes out of focus, and with a jolt you realize it was another dream.

You and Dave are always injured in the dreams, to varying degrees, but you never saw what was causing them until now. This is the first time you really have a grasp on what is going on in the dreams, and you don't like it.

You have to message Dave. You know this is irrational, but you _have_ to.

## IV

You feel like a fucking idiot, but it's too late to back out now.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]  at 08:50 --

CG: HEY.  
TG: uh hi  
TG: who tf is this and why are you yelling at me  
CG: SHIT, SORRY. MY KEYBOARD IS GARBAGE.  
CG: IT'S KARKAT. FROM THE WEDDING?  
TG: oh shit hey man  
TG: yo for future reference "HEY." is a fucking wild way to start a message  
TG: esp when you dont tell the person who you are  
TG: or that your keyboard has a weirdly specific problem  
CG: SORRY.  
CG: YOU PROBABLY NOTICED WHEN YOU MET ME THAT I'M FUCKING TERRIBLE IN SOCIAL SITUATIONS.  
TG: its okay man  
TG: the all caps thing suits you p fuckin well  
CG: AND WHAT IS *THAT* SUPPOSED TO MEAN, FUCKER?  
TG: oh its because you yell a lot  
CG: OKAY, THAT'S FAIR.  
TG: yeah  
TG: hey uh  
TG: how did you get my chumhandle  
CG: ROSE GAVE IT TO ME. SHE RECOMMENDED I SPEAK TO YOU.  
TG: about what  
CG: LISTEN UP SHITHEAD, BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LIKE I'M OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND.  
TG: so standard karkat talk then  
CG: GET FUCKED, STRIDER.  
TG: i tried to but the guy didnt even give me his number before i left for texas

You almost drop your phone. You barely know the guy!

CG: OH. UH.  
TG: only kidding man  
TG: anyway fucking let er rip  
TG: what did rose want us to talk about  
TG: and this better not be more meddling from her end  


Here goes nothing.

CG: DID YOU RECOGNIZE ME? AT ALL?  
turntechGodhead [TG] is typing...  


You wait for almost a minute before he finishes typing his reply. From the looks of it, he wrote down a much more complicated answer, then erased it:

TG: yeah  
CG: OKAY, SO IT'S NOT JUST ME.  
CG: IT'S BEEN BUGGING ME LATELY.  
TG: oh  
CG: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WE MIGHT KNOW EACH OTHER?  
TG: uh  
TG: no  
TG: listen karkat i gotta go  
TG: we can talk about this later  
CG: WAIT! ONE MORE THING.  
TG: alright then columbo whats the deal  
CG: THIS IS GOING TO SOUND EVEN DUMBER BUT...  
CG: HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING ANY WEIRD DREAMS LATELY?  
turntechGodhead [TG] is typing...

\--  turntechGodhead [TG]  is offline -- 

Fuck, that's not good. You hope he knows something. You hope he doesn't shut you out.

More than that, you're just worried. Obviously, those nightmares are nonsense, but you can't deny the possibility that they represent something you repressed. You hope it's not terrible.

You hope Dave is okay, if it was indeed something terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this is. It was going to be a soulmate au at one point, but then it very quickly and inexplicably evolved into something completely different. I don't plan on this being a straight-up horror story, it'll focus more on the characters as we go along.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, next chapter will be out somewhen.


	2. Bounded in a Nutshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams."  
>   
> —Snoop Dogg, _The Next Episode_

## I

Your apartment is really scary at night. This night in particular, as the traffic outside seems muffled. It's much quieter than normal, and that's how you were able to hear _it_.

This awful, gurgling sound, like someone drowning to death, begins to sound out from underneath the bed. You look over the side of the bed. A hand appears. It's slimy, and looks kind of metallic.

You panic, but you only run so far before it grabs you.

You wake up somewhere else.

If you don't do what you're told, you get punished.

That's the biggest rule. You have to do what it tells you, or else you will be hurt. You've been through this kind of thing. It should be easy.

Except the last time, you had your older brother, Dirk, to protect you. This time, you're pretty sure you're on your own. Selfishly, you hope that it also took another kid. Then, as the (man?)(creature?)(thing?) leads you into another metal room and violently rips off your blindfold, you see in fact another kid in the room.

In the most evil, cold voice you've ever heard, the monster speaks:

**NEW FRIEND.**

You're thrown into the room, the door slamming shut before you can get a good look at what brought you here.

You know this situation too well to try banging on the door or anything like that. That shit would get you killed.

You examine the room you've been put into. It's got two dirty beds with rather prominant bloodstains on them. On one bed, a boy roughly the same age as you sits curled up in what you think is called "fetal position." Behind his mess of dark hair, you can tell he's trying not to cry.

You speak up. "What's your name?" you ask.

He stares at you like you just threatened to kill him, then replies, "We're not supposed to say our names here, dipshit."

"Oh." You look around again, at the rusty metal walls and strange, sewer-grate floor. "What is this place?"

He scoffs. "I don't know."

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't fucking know. I don't exactly have a calendar." He buries his face into his arms just a little bit more. "I think I've been here for a while, though," he adds.

"Is there a way out of here?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out. If there's a way in, then there _has_ to be a way out, right?"

"Uh, I mean, yeah—"

"Listen," he says, sitting up to look at you properly, "if we want to get out of here, and especially if we want to kill _it,_ we're going to have to fucking trust each other a lot more than two complete goddamn strangers ever should. He's going to try and tear us apart, play us against each other, but we have to stick together. Are you with me?"

By the end of his speech, you realize that you're actually feeling a little bit hopeful. This kid actually kind of knows what he's talking about. You can tell he's been starved for people to talk to for a while, and has been doing some thinking.

"Hell yeah," you respond.

The fire drains from his eyes in an instant as the door behind you opens, the metal-on-metal creating an awful scraping sound.

You want to turn around, to know what it looks like, but you suddenly can't bring yourself to do it. You clench your fists. The room is silent but for the ragged breathing of the thing behind you.

**QUIET.**

"Yes, Sir," the boy replies. You're not sure, but you hope you can detect a tinge of confidence within that terrified façade. Like he knows something the monster doesn't.

**YOU. TURN AROUND.**

You clench your fists even tighter. In front of you, the boy stares at you intently, clearly trying to indicate through facial expression alone how fucked you are if you don't turn around.

**LOOK AT ME.**

`;';.`;'.`';'`.;';`;.`';.`';`.';`.`';.`';`.`';`.'`;.`;`;.`';.`.`;.`';`.'`;.`';`.`';.`';`.`';.`';`.`';

The nightmares started with Karkat.

You were at your twin sister's wedding, about two weeks ago. Incredibly happy for her, obviously, but you were distracted at some points because you noticed that her wife's man of honor (as you later learned it was called) looked strangely familiar.

It's not like you spent the whole day ogling your sister-in-law's cute friend or anything, you just happened to glance over every once in awhile, then a little more frequently as you realized you _knew_ him from somewhere.

You talked to him. He was shouty and rude, but you could tell he was nice at his core. Like a kitten in armour. He was surprisingly skilled at keeping up with your bullshit. You could tell he was happy for Kanaya. You had a few nice conversations. You almost wanted to ask for his number, but that would have been pushing it.

Most of all, you went the whole night without remembering where you knew him from. This bothered you a lot, and you weren't sure why. Strike that, it didn't just bother you. It clawed and bit and tore at you. You began to feel like you had forgotten something horrible.

Then the nightmares came, and you knew for sure.

Nightmares where something chases you through the dark of your childhood apartment, finally grabbing you and dragging you to what may as well be Hell itself.

Nightmares where you're kept in a room with Karkat. In the dreams, you don't know his name, and you're both much younger, but it's definitely Karkat.

You've dealt with things you can't explain before. You've _absolutely_ dealt with nightmares before. But something about this is different. The dreams are far too vivid for your comfort.

You gotta figure this shit out, but you have no idea where to start. Thankfully, life is about to throw you a bone.

## II

One morning, you get a strange message from a name you don't recognize.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]  at 08:50 --

CG: HEY.

At first, you're a little freaked out by this stranger yelling at you, but then it turns out to be Karkat. His keyboard has some sort of vague malfunction that capitalizes all his letters. Either way you're pretty stoked about this. Apparently Rose gave him your chumhandle. She probably thinks he's into you or something. You don't blame anyone for thinking that, Striders are a hot commodity these days.

The conversation doesn't go very far before Karkat tells you to LISTEN UP SHITHEAD, BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LIKE I'M OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND, and you try not to hold your breath as you respond back.

TG: what did rose want us to talk about  
TG: and this better not be more meddling from her end  
CG: DID YOU RECOGNIZE ME? AT ALL?

Shit. You weren't anywhere near as prepared for this as you thought you were. You type and retype potential messages, but none of them seem right:

TG: yeah i was actually really glad you messaged me because i was thinking the same thing— _no, that's stupid_

TG: uh yeah i mean i definitely recognize you from somewhere also ive been having dreams about you and— _wait that's even worse_

TG: listen ive been really freaking out about this and i know it must not be a big deal to you although actually you went to the trouble of getting my chumhandle so now that i think about it maybe you also feel this weird feeling like you forgot something really important and maybe youre having dreams too but if thats the case— _okay, actually fuck my brain_

And then, midway through spending way too much time coming up with increasingly weird and stupid responses, you're hit with something you hadn't thought of before.

You were so excited about the idea that you weren't alone that you neglected to think about what not being alone would actually mean in this case. If he remembers you so strongly that it influenced him to contact you weeks later, then has he also had nightmares? Did he dream the same things you did?

The idea of him telling you that he _also_ dreams of an unspeakable creature who took him away to a world made from rusted metal suddenly makes you nauseous.

You sigh and hit him with a simple "yeah" that you hope communicates everything you were trying to say. You no longer feel like talking to him; you're afraid that he might ask you exactly what you think he's going to ask you.

And before you can leave the conversation, he does.

CG: THIS IS GOING TO SOUND EVEN DUMBER BUT...  
CG: HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING ANY WEIRD DREAMS LATELY?

A wave of horror washes over you, and you're forced to confront what a part of you has been dreading from the beginning: if Karkat is having these dreams, then that _thing_ might be real.

You slam your laptop shut.

## III

Dirk eyes you with suspicion as you enter the kitchen. You know better than to think he can't read your expressions through your shades, but you were kind of hoping he wouldn't pick up on your current level of distress because you really just can't do that right now.

"Everything alright?" he asks. You're annoyed but not surprised. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you haven't been sleeping well, among other things. Most of that comes from your rather sordid family history.

You're old enough to remember that Bro was a manipulative, abusive, neglectful piece of shit. Dirk had to fight really hard, both figuratively and literally, to get you both out of that situation. He doesn't like to talk about it that much.

You hadn't thought about it in awhile, not until the dreams started. The thing in your dreams reminds you of Bro.

"Dave?" he raises his voice a little, out of concern. You must have spaced.

You sigh. "It's nothing, Dirk. I'm just having a weird few days."

"Well, just talk if you need anything, okay?"

You've already left by the time he's finished talking.

## IV

You're alone, you're in pain, and you have no idea where Karkat is. God, why isn't it dead? You slashed that thing's head open, you saw it _bleed_.

All you know is that it survived, it dragged you back here, and you're in horrible pain. You feel like your bones have been taken apart and rearranged. You can barely move.

But you're more worried for Karkat. He was the one who'd tricked the creature, so you assume he's getting it worse.

For the first time, as you lie immobilized and powerless, you finally reach beyond the sadness and fear you've been relying on for survival up to this point and into straight-up rage. You can't do anything, you will always end up here. Every time you fall asleep, you'll be in Hell, and no matter what you do, it will find a way to—

Wait, _fall asleep?_ Just as you realize you're dreaming,

`.;'`'`;.`';.`';`.'`;.`';`.`';`.'`;.`';.';``';';.`';`.`'`';.`'`;.'`;.`';;`.'`;.'`;.'`;.'`;.`';`.'`;.;

you open your eyes. You're in bed. The room almost looks normal, except in one corner you can see the wallpaper burning away, revealing the familiar rusted metal of your nightmares

`.;'`.;'`';.`';.;`';.`;'.`;'.`;.`;'`.`';..'`;.'`;'.`;.'`.`;.'.';.`.;`;'.`;.'`.';``';.`;.'`;.'`;;'`.'

until you're back asleep and that shitty metallic nightmare hell is once again surrounding you. Fortunately, though, the pain is gone this time.

Behind you, a door bursts open. You jolt up, realizing you can move. On the other side of the doorframe, a beat-up, bloody Karkat looks in at you.

"Thank fuck you're okay!" he exclaims.

"Of course I'm okay," you reply. "It's just a dream, after all."

"A dream?" he asks incredulously.

"Remember? I couldn't get with a block of wood? That's the real us, we're adults" You're not sure why you're arguing with a fake Karkat. Maybe you just want to wake up before the monster comes back.

Then, in the blink of an eye,

:::::::::::::::::::::`;'.`;'.::.`;'`.::::::::::`;'.`;.'`.`;.::';.`.:::::::::::::::::::::::::'`;::`.'

things are calm. You're at the wedding again. No pain to be found here, save for the ones of social interaction.

Karkat almost falls over onto the cupcake table. For a split second, his suit is drenched in blood, but then it's spotless, just like it was in real life.

"Dave, what the fuck?" Karkat screeches. "How are _you_ changing _my_ dream?"

"What? _Your_ dream?" You stumble. You suddenly feel like you're`.';.starting to`.;';`'wake.;'`;`'.;up`;'.';;;'.'`;.`;`'`;.`';but`'.;.you have to be the one to ask. "Are we _Dream Warriors_ ing this shit? Tell me we're not on some _Dream Warriors_ shit, Karkat."

"No, that's fucking stupid," he snarks back instantly.

You shrug. "I guess'`';.`';.`'`;.`';.we'll`';`.'`;.``'.;`';.``;find`';.`'`;.`';.`';.out`';.`';`.`';.`';.`::::::::::::::::;.`;'.``::::`.'`.`'`.`;.`';`:::::

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::.`';.`:::::::::::::::::`':::::::::`::::`'`;.`'::::::::::::::::::;`.'`.;::

## V

You've been procrastining all day. If you're wrong, you'll make yourself look like an idiot, but if you're right...then what?

You finally contact him around 3:00.

\--  turntechGodhead [TG]  began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  at 15:03 --

TG: yes  
CG: WHAT?  
TG: ive been having dreams  
TG: about a place that looks like hell  
TG: and a creature that fuckin kidnapped us n shit  
TG: does that sound familiar to you  
TG: does the phrase "dream warrior" mean anything to you  


You're about to type more when you realize that what you're doing is absolutely stupid.

TG: shit sorry

\--  turntechGodhead [TG]  ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  \--

You hear your phone buzz a few times that day, but you ignore it.

## VI

**LOOK AT ME.**

But you never looked. Maybe now it's time to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "somewhen" turned out to be quite a while. i went through a BUNCH of shit, trust me it sucked. anyway i hope u guys like PLOTS cause this story sure has one. stay tuned.


End file.
